Pink for grown-ups

I’m not a very girly girl. I’m no butch either but much of the girly stuff passes me by unappreciated. I can’t walk on heels all that well. I feel more comfortable in trousers than wearing a skirt. I choose green over pink any day. I don’t do frills. Etc.

That said.

Sneakers should be nice, not clunky. Trousers should fit, if possible showing that I have a nice behind and that my legs are not stumps. This summer I bought my first pink shirt in years and it looks okay. It has ribbons. (Funnily enough my mother, who for years has hoped both openly and secretly that I would show a little more girliness, didn’t like the colour on me much. It’s a strange old world.) The frills are still a no-go – except for a small thing for Japanese Hello Kitty phone straps, as long as they’re not pink.

Still, not overly girly.

Today I found myself in the Bijenkorf (Holland’s only real department store) and it was like a little trapdoor opened itself in me. It had been closed for quite some time, what with me being whale-sized for a large part of this year. I tried on shoes with heels as high as anything. I went to the lingerie department and looked at frilly (!) things. I looked at pretty jewelry, shiny stuff with beads. The only thing I skipped was the make-up department. I am pretty enough already. (Hah!)

Felt nice.
Me so womany.

Standing at the lingerie department, checking out some frilly cute bras, suddenly a man sidles up to where I’m standing. Juuust within my personal space he starts to check out the same bras. Not a likely-looking female partner in sight and something about him makes me move away. Is this how some men find girls: by approaching women who are looking at pretty underwear in the appropriate size? Ew.